They say when there's no more room in hell, the dead shall walk the earth. Having dragged myself out of bed at 8:00 a.m. to help set up the Pitchfork/Windish Agency party, I can attest to the authenticity of that age-old wisdom. I was so disoriented most of the day that I failed to snap pictures until the event was virtually over. After a full day of music-- including sets by Death Vessel, José González, Spank Rock, and Hot Chip, DJ sets by Ladytron, the Juan Maclean, and Matthew Dear as Audion, and the pants-pissing hilarity of MCs Aziz Ansari and Patton Oswalt-- I was pretty much ready to lay down and die.

Of course, that's when things started to get really good: Just prior to Rjd2's set (during which he awesomely dropped in Klymaxx's "Meeting in the Ladies Room"), Sweden's Love Is All jumped onstage to hammer out their exuberant lo-fi/hi-energy skronk-rock for a tent packed to capacity, and a line outside still winding around the block. Shortly thereafter, Art Brut brought down the hammer like gods of thunder, vastly eclipsing their short, scattered set at the previous day's VICE party. No "Rusted Guns of Milan", but I'll take the trade for the most wired-up performance of "Good Weekend" I've ever seen them give.

Brunettes
Red Eyed Fly, 715 Red River Street
8:00 p.m. Friday

The Brunettes were the first act on for Sub Pop's Friday showcase at Red Eyed Fly, and I guess there's a reason there was no wait to see them. One of the label's newest signings, the band crosses 60s girl-group love songs with the painful amateurism and self-conscious preciousness of the most insufferable twee-pop-- and this is coming from a dude who likes the Boy Least Likely To. I suppose they were competent if that's the sort of thing you're into. Me, I couldn't get out of there fast enough.

As everyone who knows me can testify, I spent all last fall with my fist raised to White Rose Movement's "Love Is a Number". But given their glammy poses, lopsided haircuts, and unflagging allegience to fast-fading British dance-pop, all signs pointed to that one single being their sole crowning achievement-- and despite the track weaseling its way onto my list of 2005's top 10 singles, their live show confirmed my worst suspicions. Their Human League-meets-Nazi-resistance facade is style-over-substance incarnate, and the mascara-slick bluster of "Love Is a Number" fails to carry over to their other material.

Band of Horses
Red Eyed Fly, 715 Red River Street
11:00 p.m. Friday

Ditching White Rose Movement early, I dashed up the street to catch the Boy Least Likely To at Elysium. I don't have anything to show for it, and anyway, we knew we'd have to leave early if we wanted to get in to see Band of Horses: People had already been congregating outside when I'd walked by earlier, and the club was expected to reach capacity before the band even took the stage.

The line was already out past the hot dog stand when we arrived at 10:30-- and it wasn't moving, even for those of us with badges. We nearly didn't make it, but finally managed to sneak in (thanks again, Sarah!), and were thrilled we did: The band, all bearded up and sporting (no shit) neck tattoos , were jittery, unpretentious, and elated to be there. Though still a bit rough around the edges, frontman Ben Bridwell's nervous congeniality lent a welcome levity to the performance, which, by the way, brought the place down. Another month or two of touring and these guys will be unstoppable.

Those of you wondering what happened to Liars' rhythm section when the band decided to go all freak-folk should be pleased to hear that their new band, n0 Things, is making steady progress towards being a respectable entity in its own right. Taking to the stage at Emo's IV for an early afternoon set, the trio churned out discordant no-wave and noise-rock, winning over a small crowd of onlookers, despite breaking a string in the middle of their first song.

Later, Wooden Wand's James Jackson Toth performed with an assortment of pals (or "Friends," I guess)-- some members of his backing band the Vanishing Voice, and others dragged in from related other groups. The set contrasted shockingly with their early recorded output, in that they actually had concrete songs. Playing fleshed out, full-band versions of tracks from his recent solo album Harem of the Sundrum and the Witness Figg , as well as an apparently more convetional full-length he's got coming out on Kill Rock Stars later this year, the group sounded not unlike your average midwestern bar band, but lighter on the blues and with way better lyrics.

Lavender Diamond
Fader Party, 708 East 6th Street
3:15 p.m. Saturday

Meanwhile, Fader was having its Saturday day party at the Levi's Trading Post. I arrived in time to catch half of Lady Sovereign's set before witnessing an even better one 30 minutes later from the much-hyped Los Angeles band Lavender Diamond. They're sorta ridiculous, what with frontwoman Becky Stark's crazy Super Mario princess dress and half the group apparently fresh from backing up Bob Seger unplugged, but they were awesome nonetheless, and, along with mostly fantastic showings from Devin the Dude, a solo performance from TV on the Radio's Kyp Malone, Lupe Fiasco, and Love Is All, they got me all primed and ready for...

It was off-again/on-again all the live long day for one of SXSW's most anticipated performances. The rumors surrounding Ghost's presumed cancellation and eventual re-confirmation were great: He wouldn't fly without an entourage of 200 friends and relatives (false), he overslept (true), and the organizers got him there on a chartered flight (also true). What! He would inevitably go on as scheduled, forcing every cellphone and digital camera within a seven-block radius in the air.

Gang of Four
Urb Party, 211 East 7th Street
12:00 a.m. Sunday

I don't even know how it happened, but there we all were at midnight on a parking lot roof in downtown Austin, looking on as one of the all-time great art-punk bands-- a group half of SXSW's roster was there to cop from-- shot their classics across the skyline. An amazing end to the weekend. Almost as amazing as spotting some dude doin' it, ass hanging out the passenger side of his Reliant K, in an IHOP parking lot two hours later.